Adrift In A Sea Of Love
by Izumine Kisamine
Summary: When respected French nobleman Francis Bonnefoy finds himself stuck on the high seas with the most notorious pirate on the planet, what will he do to escape? Will he even try? T 'cause I'm paranoid.
1. Drifting

_**I'm back! I've been writing loads lately, but I haven't been bothered to actually post any of it up here. So, I give you this~ I had the urge to write some pirate stuff, so this was born. As per usual I own nothing but the words.**_

_**~X~X~X~X~X~**_

Francis Bonnefoy, the handsome only son of the most well respected French trader on the face of the planet, could do nothing but watch as his entire life sunk before him, floating to the murky depths of this God-forsaken ocean. Everything he had worked so hard for vanished right in front of his eyes in the space of only a few seconds; his ship, his crew, his wealth, gone in an instant and all because of one filthy pirate. Francis had never liked pirates, but one pirate in particular was now at the top of his list.

Captain Arthur Kirkland. The most notorious, and merciless, pirate sailing the seven seas.

He was the one that had done this to him and Lord knows he would pay dearly for it if ever Francis caught up with him, but for the time being, the Frenchman was concentrating on staying afloat. His only lifeline was the scrap of drift wood he was clinging to. His white clothes, which were accented with blue here and there along with the odd strand of gold braid, were dirty and were made up of more water than actual fabric now, some of the edges were singed from where the pirate crew had set his beloved ship alight. He didn't even know where he was. Could things get any worse?

…

The blonde man floated for what seemed like a lifetime in a world of shimmering azure waves and smooth pale blue skies and soon enough he was sick of the colour so he shut his eyes. It was hard to tell but he could've sworn he had fallen asleep for a while. He couldn't blame himself; his eyes were so heavy and he was exhausted from fighting of the motley crew of dirty seadogs earlier, and even just staying afloat was slowly sapping the energy from him. Every muscle in his body ached and his head was throbbing, so of course he thought he was seeing things when a blip appeared on the horizon between one shade of blue and another. Francis squinted hard and tried to figure out if he was really seeing a ship approach him. Suddenly his body didn't seem to ache anymore and the headache went away. The vessel came into view quickly, but the blonde's hopes sank when he saw the unique flag that the ship was flying; a white rectangle with a pair of crossed cutlasses and in the middle of them was a crimson rose, blood dripping from the petals.

Captain Arthur Kirkland…

..Or his ship at least…

Francis tried to decide whether he would rather die than board that ship but he soon found he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. The pirate vessel was soon up alongside him and after a moment of shuffling from on deck a rope was thrown out into the sea, the knotted hissing worryingly close to Francis' face and landing just to his right. A voice called out from aboard; "Garb it would ya!" The voice was gruff and sounded European. The Frenchman wasn't sure what to do, after all, this was the ship that was commanded by the man that had just sent his own ship to Davy Jones' Locker. "Grab it!"

Scared that if he didn't take the rope that something worse would happen to him, Francis timidly let go of his scrap of driftwood and clung to the rope, giving the end a sharp tug to let the man aboard know that he was ready. After a moment or two of nothing happening, the rope was jerked upwards. Francis decided it was in his best interests to cooperate so he walked himself up the side of the ship before reaching the top and falling rather ungracefully onto the deck, looking more like a fish out of water than the respected French nobleman he was.

The motley crew of the vessel all gathered around the blonde to see what was going on, his expensive looking clothing drawing most of the attention. "What should we do wi'is one?" One of the crowd called.

"Grab 'is fancy lookin' clothes and throw 'im back, I say!" Cried another.

"We could 'ave ourselves a good ol' time seein' 'ow long 'e'll survive against a shark!"

One of the filthy men began prodding the Frenchman, no doubt trying to judge if there was anything of significant worth in his pockets. "What if we made 'im tell us where 'is riches are? We'd be rollin' in it!"

"The Captain don't need to know about this one. 'Ow 'bout we keep 'im to ourselves?" This idea won a roar of approval from the rest of the men, and some of the crew stood nearer the front of the gathering began scrabbling to get first in line to "greet" their guest. Francis figured this was probably the end for him and clenched his eyes when he heard a shot from a pistol fire off.

…

Opening his eyes slowly, the Frenchman steadily sat up. It took a moment for the scenery around him to fall into place again but he wasn't sure if he was glad or not; he was still sat amongst the pirate rabble on board the Kirkland man's ship. But now, they had all taken a step or two backwards, giving him some space to turn around and see where the shot had been fired from. His crystal blue eyes scanned the deck for a smoking weapon. He found one. It was being held to the sky by a black gloved hand and that hand was attached to and arm that was dressed in a plain white shirt, well, it was probably plain a few years ago, there were stains here and there. The shirt opened up at the front to reveal a stunningly pale chest, only obscured by the red sash that was tied tightly around the man's waist. The colour of the sash perfectly matched the colour of the man's flowing frock coat that was draped over his shoulders, the sleeves empty and fluttering in the wind by his sides. The man wore black breeches, but only a small portion of them could be seen as the majority of his legs were covered up by his battered black leather boots that looked like they had seen better days. Francis took in the sight of the man's elegant clothing and the fact that he was relatively clean considering his profession. The Frenchman dared to look this newcomer in the eyes. The blond slowly raised his head and met the emerald gaze of the man. His eyes, they seemed familiar. Suddenly, Francis realized where he knew this stare from.

Captain Arthur Kirkland.

Francis had never seen him face to face before, but there were "Wanted" posters of him at every port, pub and parlour all over the world. His scruffy blonde hair visible under the scruffy old brown tricorn hat that sat rather comfortably upon the Brit's head, the distinct eyebrows and the cocky smirk seemed all too familiar. But it was him, alright. The Englishman lowered the pistol from the air and slung it back into its place inside the sash around his waist and waltzed almost absentmindedly towards the crowd and the Frenchman that was still sat on the deck. "So," the captain began. He didn't sound anything like what Francis thought he would; he sounded upper class almost and not at all rough or harsh. It was almost nice to hear him speak. "What have you mangy lot fished out this time, eh?" He strode up to where his men were gathered and turned to the fist mate, the man who had thrown the rope to Francis.

"Well, I found 'im floatin' around out there an' I thought we should, y'know, 'aul 'im up 'n see what was goin' on."

Captain Kirkland nodded thoughtfully, "So, you decided to take him aboard and not inform me because…?"

The first mate thought for a moment, obviously struggling to think up a reason for his Captain, who was smiling devilishly.

"I see, you wanted to knock him around a bit, steal what little wealth he would have on his person then throw him back? Is that it?" His emerald eyes were boring holes into the side of the First Mate's head as he waited almost intently for the man to respond. When he didn't answer, Arthur swept him up bridal style and walked through the crowd of gasping crew members, before stopping next to the edge of the deck. The Captain leant over the edge, making the man in his arms hang just over the edge and above the ocean. "It's an awfully long was to land from here, do you know that?"

Without another word from anyone, the Englishman drew back his arms and allowed the Mate to fall to the water below. Ignoring the screams for help, the Brit strolled back to where the crew were gathered. All the men took a step back from Kirkland when he passed them, afraid that they would be next to join the First Mate. Francis, who was still sat on the splintered, wooden floor, couldn't believe what he had just seen. The Pirate Captain had seemed so nice, yet he had just sent that man to his death without batting an eyelid. He had heard stories, but there was something about seeing it with his own eyes that made the French man realize the extremity of his situation. He had a moment of clarity. And he didn't like it. "Well now," The nobleman turned around sharply when he noticed the voice of the Captain was right behind him, to find himself merely centimetres from the Englishman's own face, " it seems I find myself short of a First Mate." Francis couldn't form a response out of pure terror. "I'd like to offer you a position." The pirate smiled, and without warning he grabbed the Frenchman by the hand, pulled him up from the floor and practically dragged him into his cabin, leaving the crew to stew in their confusion.

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

_**I'm actually pretty proud of this one~ A proper plotted story isn't something I would consider a strong point of mine, but this one has gone pretty well so far…**_

…_**Right, that's it, I've jinxed it! The story will be horrible from now on…**_

_**Well, I hope it won't be…**_

_**Hope you enjoy this and the chapters that are to follow~**_

_**~IK**_


	2. Sailing

_**Welcome, dear readers, to chapter two of "Adrift in a Sea of Love", one of my personal favorite stories so far, along with "Thanks For Waiting" and a couple of others. Also! I'd like to thank all the awesome people that have favourited, followed and reviewed this story so far! Anyway, that's enough of my opinions, onwards!**_

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

Francis followed the Captain, not that he had much of a choice, into his cabin at the back of the ship before being thrown down onto an old chair that sat in front of a large and crowded desk, which was silhouetted by the large window behind it that looked out onto the sea. The Frenchman took a moment to take in his new surroundings; the walls of the room were adorned with treasures that had no doubt stolen and pillaged from all four corners of the earth, and everywhere in between; Jeweled necklaces hung from nails in the wall and rich rugs were draped over everything. Golden goblets and silver plates were scattered in the corners of the room and in one corner there stood a totem pole style carving. The desk in front of him was littered with pouches of coins and other nautical equipment. There was a map spread out over the centre of the desk, the corners held down with small piles of gems. In a space close the Pirates' own chair, there was a goblet and a decanter, side by side. Arthur Kirkland sat himself down in his throne like chair that was upholstered in crimson velvet. He leant back in his chair and brought his legs up to place his feet on the table, on top of the map. "Do you like what you see, then?" The Brit asked, reaching out and taking up his goblet.

"What do you want with me, you filthy sea dog?" Francis spat, glaring up at the other.

"I told you, I would very much like to offer you the position of First Mate here on my ship." The Captain took an almost elegant sip of wine from the chalice in his gloved hand.

"And tell me, why on earth would I want to work on this floating wreck, eh?"

"Because," Arthur began, standing up from his chair and moving to behind the French Noble, crouching there, "all this could be yours. The wealth. The riches. The freedom. And all you have to do is ask for it. I'll give you whatever it is that you desire. You won't have to work for it. You'll be free to do as you wish."

The Noble had to pause for thought; in some way, that offer did actually sound quite promising. However, living on the seas and not knowing where your next meal was coming from didn't sound too great to him.

"Why do you want me, an upperclassman, and a French upperclassman at that, aboard your ship?"

At first, the Pirate captain seemed to be ignoring Francis, and the Frenchman was about to shout at him, when the Brit lifted the goblet to his pale lips and took a sip before he answered with something that Francis certainly wasn't expecting; "There's something you should probably know about me. I don't kill people I take a liking to. I suppose you could say I've taken a bit of a shine to you-" The Englishman stopped mid-sentence, realizing his lack of common courtesy. "I'm sorry; I never asked your name."

Francis, still reeling a little from the pirate's out of the blue response to his last question, barely managed to utter his name. "Francis. Francis Bonnefoy."

A small gasp was audible from beside Francis' ear, where Arthur was knelt. The Pirate obviously knew of the Bonnefoy's trading and shipping empire. It took a moment for the conversation to resume, and when it did it, it was short and stunted. "Well, you stay here for a moment, I need to go and talk to the men. Make yourself a home." And without another word, the sandy blonde left the room, slamming the door behind him. Francis simply sat, staring out at the ocean, trying to process what had just happened. He was on the ship of the one and only Captain Arthur Kirkland, and he was still alive. He had even told the pirate his name, so now he knew about the wealth that he was sitting on, and yet he had done nothing about it. For a notorious rogue, he wasn't making the most obvious first impression, not that Francis was complaining about still being alive. Something just seemed a bit off about the entire situation, however obscure and unusual it was to begin with. The man's thought were interrupted when the red coated Brit strode back into the room, this time shutting the door quietly after himself. He walked back to the centre of the room, frowning, and stood beside his desk, leaning against it slightly. "So," he began, the smirk returning to his face. "Have you considered my offer?"

Francis had no reply. In all honesty, he had been thinking about everything but that man's offer. "Well," he hesitated, "I just want to ask you one thing, first." Out of all the strange things that had happened over the course of the day, there was one that was annoying Francis the most. "What do you mean you've "taken a shine to me"?"

Captain Kirkland walked towards the chair where Francis was sat, taking his plumed hat from his head and carelessly discarding it to the floor. He knelt down again, in front of the noble this time, and looked up to him with sparkling emerald eyes. "It's exactly what it sounds like." He hesitated a second before reaching up and resting a gloved hand on the Frenchman's face. Francis tried to back his head away from the Pirate's hand, but his neck wouldn't allow it, so he simply sat there, staring into the jade eyes of his captor. After a while, he wasn't so uncomfortable, though he couldn't tell why.

"Cap'n!" came a yell from the direction of the door. The two blondes snapped their heads around to look at the door, and the crewman who was stood on the threshold. The poor man looked a touch confused, but thought better of questioning his Master.

"Sir, we've seen land, do you want to dock?"

Kirkland sighed, slouching and rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Yes, I would. And as soon as possible would be nice." The crewman gave a respectful nod and turned, leaving the room. The two remaining men stared at each other for a moment, before the captain got up and walked over to stand in front of his window, staring out to the water. "Here is my final offer. We will go to land to take stock and rest up; it's been a long week. If you wish to be left alone, you don't have to return to the ship when we leave. If you want to take me up on this offer, then all you have to do is come back to the ship before we leave." And with that said, the Brit swept out of the room, probably to oversee the docking or shout at some poor soul who wasn't doing his job properly, leaving Francis to stew in his doubt and confusion.

"What am I to do?" he thought aloud, getting up from his chair and wandering aimlessly around the small, crowded cabin. "It's not like I could ever return to France now that I managed to sink my father's ship, but I certainly don't want to be stuck here for the rest of my life." The blonde strolled over to the small cabin bed that sat on the left side of the door, and sat down, surprised by how soft the mattress felt. "Why did he make me this offer anyway? I would be a total liability. The instant I get to land I could report them." He held his thought for a moment, realizing something that completely changed his position; "I could be the man to turn in Arthur Kirkland!"

"This changes everything. Although, it would mean having to stay on this ship for a little while longer, I would be able to hand over the most notorious pirate in history!" Francis stood up from the bed, excited by his new revelation. "All it would take is some careful planning on my part, to get him to come with me to a port, any port, and then all I would have to do is notify the authorities and lead him right to them! It may get a little more complicated than that, after all, that man is a tactical mastermind, and he might see it coming, but in theory I could do it!" The Frenchman was thinking aloud by this point, and was practically jumping up and down in excitement. "Right. That's what I'll do then." He decided, and walked towards the door of the Captain's cabin. He swung open the door, full of a new energy, and scanned the deck for the crimson coat of Arthur Kirkland. It didn't take long to locate the vibrant garment among the sea of brown and grey. Francis pulled his collar up, fixing his sleeves and moving the odd strands of hair back to where they should be, and walked off purposefully towards the pirate.

Just as the Noble approached the Brit, he turned round, almost as if he had seen Francis coming, and met his gaze dead on. "Hm, venturing out already, are we? I was just about to come and fetch you."

Francis ignored that statement, so as to not lose focus of his new goal, and started his own conversation, "I have considered your offer." This sentence won him a devilish smile from the Englishman.

"And?"

"I want to stay aboard this ship of yours."

A look of shock was visible on the pirate's features. He was obviously expecting the Frenchman to decline his proposition.

"Right. May I ask you why? I thought you would leap at the first chance you got to leave."

Francis thought quickly, fabricating a half lie; "I cannot return to France like this, with no ship and no money. I would be a disgrace to my family. It would be better for them to think that I had died at sea in that raid you made earlier." A hint of venom rose in the Noble's voice as he remembered the events of earlier that day.

"Well then, that's brilliant. Of course, now that you've taken up the position of First Mate, you'll have to be at my side for every waking hour of the day. Are you sure that you don't mind that?"

The Frenchman paused for a moment, gathering all his acting ability and forcing it into his response; "Of course not. It would be an honor."

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

_**Taadaa~ You like? I hope so; I've poured my heart and soul into this story. I hope it's paid off~ Anyways, the next chapter will be up soon, with any luck, so I'll see you then~**_

_**~IK**_


	3. Drinking

_**Chapter three~ I'm not sure how long this story will end up being, but I don't want to limit myself, so I'll just keep writing until I think the story comes to a suitable ending. How does that sound? Alright? Good. Also, I'm sorry it's taken forever to upload this chapter, we've been off school and that's where I usually work on my fics. Sorry!**_

_**Anywho, on with the story~**_

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

After a few minutes of what seemed to Francis like poorly organized chaos, the pirate ship anchored in a port on a small island somewhere off the coast of God knows where; Francis had lost any bearing he had had when he was dragged onto the pirate ship. The port village was small and lively, and minus the smell of fish and manure, it was a nice little place. There were quaint shops dotted along the pier and stalls that were selling various things. Everyone was shouting, but it was friendly, and everyone seemed happy.

Arthur strode down the gangplank first, confidence and pride and confidence practically oozing from him, with Francis following on behind like a lost puppy. He felt completely out of his comfort zone; He had dealt in small towns like this before, and was used to it. But this time was different; somehow, walking around with one of the most hated men alive made him feel a little uneasy. The rest of the crew were busy loading up the ship with fresh supplies, and would remain on the ship until they were ordered by their captain to leave port. Said captain was busy leading his new First Mate into a small Public House. The smell of sweat and vomit hit Francis in the face like a brick wall as soon as he crossed the threshold. There were people sleeping, or passed out, lying around everywhere and only a few of the current customers seemed conscious. The man behind the bar noticed his favourite customer as he walked in and scurried out to greet him. "Just the usual for me, love, and-"He turned to the Frenchman, "What do you want, eh?"

"Oh, nothing for me, thank you." The noble smiled politely, not forgetting his manners despite his surroundings. It wasn't that Francis didn't trust that small bartender with his drink, but the place seemed to be covered in dirt, and he wasn't sure that any of the drinks in the building would be safe for human consumption. The pirate nodded and led his charge through to a back room in the building, far away from the regular clientele. The room was small, and sparsely furnished; two chairs on a rug in the middle of the room and only a few framed painting here and there on the walls. However, this new room smelt fresh and a lot nicer than the previous room.

The bartender waited patiently behind Arthur as the Brit shed his crimson coat, and took it from him like clockwork. Kirkland smiled his thanks at the small man, and watched intently as his coat was hung up on the back of the door and the bar man left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. "So," the pirate got straight to it, typical. "You want to stay with me. You understand that I have my suspicions about you."

Francis didn't want to say anything in reply in case he ended up giving himself away, so he instead chose to raise a delicate eyebrow.

"A noble Frenchman such as you would hardly choose to stay aboard a pirate ship," He paused, eyeing the Frenchman up, "unless they had something to gain, of course."

Francis broke into a sweat, he couldn't get found out, not yet!

"And what makes you think I'm the same as the others?"

"Because I know. And I know I'm right." He flashed a smirk in the Frenchman's direction, "And if you know me, you'll know that I am very childish, and I don't like to be wrong."

"Typical pirate." The Frenchman sighed, only half intending for the other man to hear it.

"Listen," Arthur continued, "I'd love to have you aboard, but I have to trust you. You're not going to give me away, are you?" Arthur's question came out as more of a demand, and was said in a tone of voice that Francis hadn't thought the pirate was capable of; Dark, scheming and deadly serious.

"I would never give you away, sir." The words were out of his mouth before Francis realized what he had said.

"Sir?" The Englishman was equally surprised with Francis' choice of words. "Well that's new. Nice, but new."

Francis blushed, hating himself for showing respect to that filthy man. "Th-that's not what I meant! It wasn't supposed to come out like that!" He insisted.

"N'aaw, how sweet. You're all flustered!" Arthur cooed, leaning forward in his seat. "That blush suits you." The pirate said, pointing out the light pink dusting that covered the Frenchman' cheeks, only making said blonde blush harder.

"Just shut your mouth, would you?" The noble pleaded, not noticing how childish he sounded.

Arthur threw Francis a sharp glare, "Tsk tsk, that's no way to talk to your new boss, now, is it, love?"

The Frenchman could think of no retort, or any words at all to be honest. He just sank back in his chair and glared daggers at the cocky Brit that sat smirking before him. 'If looks could kill.' The pirate captain thought to himself.

"Anyway," he began again, trying to avoid any further awkward pauses, "I trust you, so you're welcome aboard my ship." Just as the last word left the captain's lips, the old bartender cautiously opened the door and walked in, pint glass in hand. He hurriedly set it down on the table that stood between the two men's chairs and half walked, half ran from the room, earning him a raised eyebrow from Francis. "Poor mite, he's scared witless by me after the last time I was here."

Francis raised a questioning eyebrow, "Some of his regulars… Well, let's say that they won't be coming here again. Ever." The Brit smirked, and winked at Francis with a playful sparkle in his eye.

Francis thought for a moment, trying to figure out what horrible end the poor men had come to. "That reminds me," Francis began to think aloud; "They say that you're the most notorious pirate sailing the oceans, but, you've been terribly accommodating and kind to me."

"Perhaps you need a demonstration?" The pirate grinned devilishly, standing up from his seat and taking slow strides towards the Frenchman, who was almost visibly sweating; he hadn't intended to rile up Arthur, he was just stating the obvious.

"I-I didn't mean anything by it. I just meant that… well…" Words failed him as the rogue knelt down in front of Francis as he had done before while they were still aboard Kirkland's ship, only closer this time; the pirate's face was inches from Francis' and the noble could smell the rum on the Englishman's breath. There was a predatory shine to Arthur's emerald irises that scared Francis somewhat. The pirate leant in a little more, closing the distance between the two of them. Just as Francis was about to stand up, or at least strike the pirate in the face, when the door to their room opened and the bartender peeked his head round it, whispering; "Excuse me sirs, but your crew are waiting for you. They told me to come and fetch you; they said that they are ready to leave now." The man's sentence trailed off as he stumbled over what to say next.

"Oh, what a shame," Kirkland sighed, leaning back again and turning his attention to the old man stood at the door. "And I never got a chance to finish my drink." He stood and picked up his pint glass, which was still full to the brim with frothy golden ale. He took it up in one well-placed swipe into a gloved hand and took a good swig from the glass. "You don't mind if I take this, do you, love?" and with that he strode from the room, glass in hand, not bothering to thank the poor bartender who was shaking like a leaf and looked about ready to pass out from stress.

Francis sat for a moment, trying to think if he really wanted to stay with that blasted captain. Was it worth it? He may never get the chance to give him away anyway. He would be risking his life for something that may not even happen and he had told the pirate that he wouldn't hand him over, so the punishment would be ten times worse if he ever did. He didn't want to die like that. But something inside him, some morbid curiosity drew him to the red coated captain. There was something that was calling him to the pirate. If only he could place it!

Almost without thinking, Francis stood from the chair and left the room, thanking and apologizing to the bar man as he did so. He found his way back to the ship with no problems and walked up the gangplank to stand at his new master's side. "So," he sighed, looking over the captain's shoulder at the map he was clutching in his gloved hands, "Where are we headed?" He paused for a moment before adding, "Captain."

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

_**Taadaa~ I know this chapter may seem a little like a filler, but there was a point to it, I promise! I wanted to sort out the situation between the two of them, plus add a few more questions~ Also, thank you so much for all the positive feedback the story has gotten so far! I hope it's worth it in the end…**_

_**~IK~**_


	4. Confessing

_**Oh my god, another chapter?! Sorry, but I only have a small idea on where this is going, so bear with me, okay? And also, thanks again for all the awesome feedback I've gotten for this story so far! I swear it's the only thing keeping me going with it because I don't usually like writing multi-chapter stories. Well, onwards, my dear reader!**_

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

It had been a week since the ship had left the port in the small seaside village. It had been a week since Arthur Kirkland had left Francis Bonnefoy horribly confused. After the close encounter in the back room of the pub, the Frenchman had been suffering from extremely confusing emotions. The Pirate kept on saying that he had "taken a shine to him" or was treating him differently to the other members of his crew; not shouting at him, but asking him, sometimes even politely, or flashing him the odd smile from across the deck. One time, Francis had even caught the Brit staring at him while he was cleaning his clothes. But that wasn't what was bothering him. What was bothering him was that he felt funny whenever he was around the captain. He would get the butterflies every time the Englishman rested a hand on his shoulder, or feel his cheeks get hot whenever they had to stand close to one another. He knew what emotion he was feeling, but of all people, why the Pirate? He kept on asking himself this during the many sleepless night and grueling hours on deck, but he never came to an answer.

Currently, the ship was on course for some small island off the coast of India, where Arthur said he had business to take care of. They had been sailing for about a week and all was going well. Too well, you could say. One day, while the sun was just reaching its peak in the clear blue sky, Francis was leant on a railing and staring out into the endless waves as he often did now, thinking. He was glad with his new position on the ship, and although the thought of being the pirate captain's favorite didn't fill him with much joy, he liked the fact that it meant the other crew members couldn't lay a single greasy finger on him, for fear of angering the Brit.

While the Francis was lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice a certain red coat wearing blonde approach him from behind and wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him close. "Good afternoon, love." Arthur sighed. Francis sighed in return. 'For a notoriously bloodthirsty and merciless pirate, he could be really soppy sometimes.' Francis thought as he turned around in the younger man's arms. The Frenchman thought briefly about trying to get away, but soon realized that there was little point in even thinking about it. 'After all, where can you hide on a ship?'

Francis sighed, "What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you. In my chamber, if that's alright with you." Francis hesitated, not sure whether he should be worried or not. "It doesn't matter really; I want a word with you either way." And without a second thought, Arthur grabbed Francis by the wrist and dragged him off to the door to his chamber, at the back of the deck.

While the Nobleman was still trying to process what had happened in the last two minutes, he found himself sat down on the pirate's bed, with a flustered looking Arthur Kirkland sat by his side. There was a moment of peaceful silence. "Look, I… I have something that I want to tell you. Francis."

The Noble froze. That was the first time that Arthur had addressed him by his name since they had met a week ago. It was also the first time that he had heard the pirate stutter. What was going on? Things were getting weird. Arthur avoided eye contact, simply staring at his hands as they lay limp in his lap. Francis looked on concerned and shifted along the bed, closer to the rogue. "What is it, captain?"

Another moment of silence.

"Look, I… You probably know that I've been favoring you over the others recently, and… I…"

Francis raised a slender eyebrow.

"Again, what is it? A mighty pirate like you shouldn't feel the need to beat around the bush, surely." The older man was beginning to lose his patience with his captain. He was used to the Brit being loud and upfront with everything. "Just tell me, would you?" he hissed.

The Englishman sighed. His head was ducked, so Francis couldn't see much, but he could just about make out a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks. Strange. Despite the Frenchman's desperation for Arthur to just say what he wanted to, the captain still kept quiet.

"Well, I… Ugh… I don't know how to say this…"

"Arthur, out with it."

Silence.

"I… I think I love you, Francis."

The Frenchman had no idea how to take the pirate's sudden admission. Granted, he had kind of seen it coming for a while now, but still; to hear it straight from the horse's mouth, as it were, was a wholly different matter. At first he was embarrassed, but soon the embarrassment turned to sympathy, and then, after a five minute pause in the conversation as the two men thought, Francis thought he felt butterflies in his gut. At first he tried his best to ignore them, but when he thought about it more he realized that he might actually possibly feel slightly the same way towards Arthur...

…Maybe…

The Frenchman looked up again and was met with an emerald gaze. It wasn't fiery or fierce like it had been for the past few weeks, but soft and smiling, kind almost. It was enticing to the Noble, who soon found himself leaning forward. Both men were hesitant at first, but soon they were inches away from one another's faces, their breath mixing. To begin with, it was just a chaste kiss, two seconds at the most, but then they brought their lips together again and lingered. It was soft and gentle, and certainly not what Francis had expected of a notorious killer.

The two men separated, sitting up again. Francis kept his gaze firmly on the sheets of the bed. Arthur stared contentedly into Francis' crystal blue eyes, a smirk still plastered on his face. "I'm sorry." The Brit sighed, only just remembering that normal people didn't usually go up to someone that they had only known for little over a week and kiss them. "It was probably a long shot at best." He smiled, genuinely for once, and went to get up from the bed to leave, when he felt a sudden tug at the tail of his crimson coat. He looked down to the bed again to see Francis with his hand holding tightly onto the fabric. His knuckles were turning white, while his cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment. "I… I…" The Frenchman stuttered, mentally cursing himself for tripping over his words and appearing weak in front of Arthur. "I suppose… I don't necessarily… not like you."

Arthur froze in mid stride and paused for a second before slowly sitting himself back down on the bed next to Francis. "Y-you do?" At first Francis was surprised that the pirate was even able to understand what he had just said, but he soon realized that that was beside the point, and tentatively looked up at his captain. Swirling pools of green smiling on as they met with a cool, calm, crystal gaze. The two men sat like that for a moment more before Francis lent forward and planted a quick, rough kiss in return on the Englishman's lips.

"Oui. But if you tell anyone, I will hunt you down, I swear." He growled as he got up and walked slowly from the room, humming to himself.

As he opened the door to leave the room, Francis bumped into one of the crew. He was one of the ones that Francis had seen when he was first hauled aboard the ship. The filthy man was hunched over next to the wall beside the door, his dirty clothes looking even grubbier in the shade of the cabin. Francis didn't think much of it. Why would a crew member be listening in to their conversation? He shook the thought from his mind and nodded at the man; "Hamish."

"Frenchy." The man called Hamish replied as he watched Francis carry on his way towards the Galley.

As his figure faded out of view and melted into the crowd of people that littered the deck, Hamish smirked to himself. He wouldn't tell anyone yet, but, he had just seen his captain, his proud, self-respecting, dignified captain just kiss that stuck up Frenchman. He had just gone to tell his captain that they were almost at the port of the island that they were headed for, when he had seen the Brit dragging his lips over those of the Frenchman. He couldn't believe it…

His captain was…

…gay?

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

_**Ooh! Okay, first, uh, I'm sorry~ I know that this story is supposed to be set in the somewhere in the 18th century, perhaps early 19th, which is just after the "Golden Age Of Piracy." (Yeah, because I research for my stories! Though not much…)Anyway, I know that they didn't use the term "gay" in the same way we do, but I just couldn't bring myself to put "Homosexual." I don't even know why, it just doesn't sound right. Secondly; Woohoo! They kissed! Finally! *fist pump* Anyway, I look forward to seeing all you lovely people in the next chapter, which I'm going to start now! Like, right now!**_

_**I'm on a ROLL!**_

_**~IK~**_


	5. Shopping

_**Woohoo! Another chapter! I've started writing this literally seconds after I've finished the last chapter, because I'm a little bit wired right now, so I have to burn of the energy by typing! Anyways! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!**_

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

The proud vessel of Arthur Kirkland glided into the port with no real problems only a day later. The crew was all working hard as always, as they knew it was in their best interests to stay on their captain's good side. But something seemed off. Arthur noticed it the minute he strode out of his cabin; the crew wasn't being as loud or boisterous as they usually were. One member of the kitchen crew even dared to answer back to Arthur when he had ordered him to clear off the deck and get back to the Galley. What was going on? He captain decided that he would try and forget it, or assume that they were having an off day or something, how ever much he didn't believe it for a second.

Shoving his thoughts to the back of his mind, the Englishman scanned the deck for his First Mate, locating his, now rather dirty, fine clothes among the mess of brown and grey that was his crew. He had a purpose. "Ah, Francis!" He called, speeding up his pace to meet the older man in the middle of the deck. "I want to take you somewhere, okay?" He smiled and offered out his hand. The taller blonde took a moment to process what was happening. After yesterday, he wasn't entirely sure how to act around the pirate. The noble had no time to answer, or even think any more about it, before he was dragged by the wrist off down the gangplank and into a bustling seaside village, similar to the last place they docked, only a lot cleaner. Francis stumbled behind the Englishman until he eventually caught up. The two men were a good few meters away from the ship before Arthur slowed down to a halt. Francis didn't notice in time and ran into Arthur's back, letting out a small "Oof."

Arthur laughed, "N'aaw. You should make that noise more often. It's cute." The Frenchman blushed furiously and looked at the shining cobbled street.

"Is that why you led me out here? To embarrass me?" He grumbled.

Arthur frowned for a second, acting as if he was deeply insulted by Francis's remark. "As if I would do something like that. Did you not hear me yesterday?" The red coated Brit rested a gloved hand under the lightly stubble covered chin of the First Mate, forcing him to look into his emerald eyes. "I love you."

The Englishman smiled softly as he leant up and placed a small kiss on Francis's lips. "Just remember that, alright, love?" Francis glanced up for a second, smiling to himself.

"Right. I'll remember." The Frenchman smiled and looked up into Arthur's eyes again. "Just, don't embarrass me, right?"

Arthur's usual smirk returned to his face. He nodded firmly. "Of course." Quickly, he ducked his head and kissed Francis' rough cheek before running of into the crowd, laughing.

"Hey. Hey! Get back here!" The Flustered noble yelled after the captain, starting off after him.

Francis shoved and pushed his way through the bustling crowds of people in an effort to at least keep eye contact with Arthur's crimson coat. He managed to keep a steady distance from him until he at last came to a stop outside a shop. When Francis got within speaking distance of Arthur, he saw that the Brit was smiling like a fool. "What was that about, eh?" he gasped, trying to catch his breathe.

"Oh, c'mon. I have to have my fun too." For the second time that day, Arthur offered Francis a hand, but this time Francis hesitated. "No running off this time." He ordered. The younger man simply shook his head. Francis reached his hand out slowly and placed it in the sandy blonde's hand. He was surprised when all that Arthur did was grip it tightly and hold it down by his side.

"We have to get you sorted out with some new clothes. You can't go on wearing those old rags forever." Arthur turned to Francis and smiled reassuringly. "These ladies will find you some new clothes until we can get some custom made for you next time we hit main land."

The taller blonde followed behind the pirate as he opened the door and waltzed in, keeping hold of his hand the whole time. When the door closed behind them and the cute little bell rang, a tall platinum blonde woman popped up from under the desk that sat at the side of the door. "Oh, Kirkland!" She chirped, skipping out from behind the desk and into the main floor of the shop. Francis was momentarily distracted by the size of the woman's chest. 'Surely they must make her back ache.' He thought. "How can I help you today? Or tonight?" She flicked an eyebrow in his direction, smiling devilishly at him.

"Sorry, Katyusha. I'm busy tonight." The pirate grinned, lifting his hand to show that he was still holding Francis' hand. The woman's smile dropped.

"Oh… That's a shame." Her hazy blue eyes flickered from Arthur to Francis and the back to the captain. "Who is he, anyway?"

"Kat, that's hardly polite, is it? This is Francis. He's my new First Mate."

The woman raised an eyebrow, "New? What happened to the old one?"

Arthur glanced over at Francis before he answered. "I just fancied a change, is all, love." He smiled at Katyusha as he continued, "Francis here is in desperate need of new clothes, as you can probably tell. I knew you'd be able to fit him up with something decent until we reach a city or something."

The tailor smiled, blushing a little at the compliment. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Kirkland."

"Just what I'd hoped." The Brit smirked. Then he let go of Francis' hand and collapsed onto a small upholstered chair in the corner of the room. "Have at him, Kat."

The platinum blonde practically squealed as she skipped towards the Frenchman, measuring tape in hand. She hummed to herself as she set to work taking the Noble's measurements. Francis didn't know where to look. Although after a while the walls of the tailor's shop became quite interesting.

An English voice brought Francis from his wall examination. "After this we'll set off for England. I like to go home once in a while. Then maybe we could go to the continent? I love Europe. We could do a tour around the coast of the west. Stop of in Spain. Perhaps even France?" It seemed at first to Francis as if Arthur was just thinking aloud, but then he realized what the Brit was getting at

"No." The Frenchman announced, bluntly. "I will not go back to France. That's final."

"Do you really want to stay with me?" Arthur asked, sounding almost hurt at the statement. "But, love, you'll never be allowed back into your society if anyone finds out you chose to stay with a pirate of your own free will. You might not even be allowed into France if they find out it was me you were with."

The Frenchman sighed dejectedly, but swiftly swapped his pout for a small smile; "The things we all do for love, eh?"

Arthur looked shocked. Then he looked pleased. "Alright then. How could I say no to you?"

Francis smirked. It had been a week and he already had the pirate wrapped around his little finger.

The afternoon passed with Arthur mostly conscious in his chair in the corner, only falling asleep for a few short moments and Katyusha picking out various clothes and accessories until she found a few combinations that pleased her. She folded them and placed them delicately into a small brown paper bag. "There you are." She beamed, handing the bag across her work top to Francis as she placed out her hand to accept her payment from Arthur.

"Keep the change, Kat. Thanks again." He saluted and strode to the door, holding it as Francis walked through and bowing as he passed.

"Merci."

"Now, to get back to that floating tub before the crew think we're dead." The captain thought aloud, taking his First Mate's hand in his own and wandering slowly towards where his pride and joy was docked. He was equally as gentlemanly towards the noble as he stepped aside to let him up the gangplank first, grinning happily all the while.

"Well, what now?" The older man asked while the Brit made his own way up to the deck.

"How's about we see what you look like in your new outfits, hm? You can get changed in my cabin." The Frenchman blushed a little. "I won't look, don't worry." Arthur teased.

The younger blonde led the way, holding the door open for Francis again, then shutting it tight behind them. To both men's surprise, a member of the crew, none other than Hamish, was sat in the captain's chair, fiddling with a cutlass.

"Nice of you to join us, ladies." He growled.

…And then it all went black…

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

_**Lovin' Ukraine's cameo, huh?**_

_**Wow, okay, sorry if that chapter seemed kinda pointless, but trust me! I'm going somewhere with this~ And I really enjoyed writing this chapter~ And no, Hamish isn't supposed to be a country, he's just some guy I came up with. I was stuck for a name, and then someone in the I.C.T suite I go to to write this stuff at lunch time shouted "Hamish!" across the room, then BAM! Inspiration!**_

_**~IK~**_


	6. Arguing

_**Oh… Chapter six?! I honestly didn't think I would get this far~ Thank you for the great reviews, each one makes my day, really~ Anyway, I hope you are all enjoying this, and will like where I am taking it from here. Also, I think I should apologize for my writing style. It seems to have changed at least twice since I started out. I don't know~ Well, onwards, I suppose!**_

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

When Francis came to, the world around him was blurry and there was a dull throbbing in his head. He could only assume that he had been knocked out. He gave himself a moment to regain his full consciousness. When he did, he felt something pressing against his right side. A dead weight. The Frenchman twisted his neck to see what it was. He was surprised to see the scruffy blonde hair of his captain resting on his shoulder. The younger man was still unconscious, or just asleep. Francis couldn't tell. The Brit's face was covered by his messy fringe, so Francis couldn't see him properly, but the Noble guessed that he looked sweet when he slept. The pirate was slouched against the older man while Francis himself was sat bolt upright, his back resting against something hard. A wall? He tried to bring his hands up to rub his eyes, only then realizing that his hands were tied together.

He yawned. He stretched. He sighed. Then he decided to take in his surroundings. He was sat in the corner of a darkened room. He could just make out a door in the wall opposite him. There was a lantern sadly flickering in the corner furthest from them. That was all Francis could make out. He didn't know anything that had happened since Hamish had appeared in Arthur's cabin.

What had happened? Had Hamish done this to them? What was going on now? Where was the ship now?

Francis was drawn from his thoughts as the man resting on him shifted, stirring from his sleep. "Mff…" He sighed, stretching his shoulders. "Where are we?" The Brit instantly noticed the change in surroundings.

"I don't know." The noble whispered, slightly afraid that whoever did this to them was lurking around nearby. Arthur sighed again. Then he simply sat for a quiet moment, seemingly thinking, although Francis couldn't quite tell. "Right." He announced confidently, looking up through his tatty fringe to Francis. "Here is what we are going to do, first-" The Brit was cut off before he could continue as the door to their holding room was opened. Through the doorway walked Hamish, still holding the cutlass he was twiddling earlier.

"Good evening, you two." He purred, grinning devilishly to himself. "I hope you're having a nice time, being so close to one another for such a long time. I bet you really like it."

Arthur growled. "What do you mean you treacherous leech?!" The captain could feel that something was wrong, apart from him being tied up and all.

"Listen, me and the lads saw you two getting' a little too close to one another the other day, if you know what I mean."

Francis and Arthur exchanged a confused look before turning back to Hamish, who tried to demonstrate what he meant by making a strange face, which the two blondes took to be an impression of him kissing someone. "Look," Arthur hissed, hateful venom dripping from his voice, "Just tell me what the fuck you're up to, Hamish."

"I still have some respect for you, captain, so I'll tell you straight; we don't want some frilly nancy as our captain, or our first mate. We figured we would drop you off next time we drop anchor." The crewman raised an eyebrow in the Brit's direction. "That alright with you?" Arthur threw Hamish a look that said he knew he didn't have a say in the matter anyway. "Good."

"No, not good, you son of a bitch. When I get out of here, you'll pay dearly. I swear. This is treason!" The outraged captain lurched forward, jerking back as his restraints prevented him from tackling Hamish and killing him there and then.

"You'll have to get out of here fist though, won't you? Love?" The crewman smirked, imitating his captain's strange speech pattern and making the Brit in question fight harder against his rope bonds.

The scruffy crewman winked at the two men before turning on his heel and then exiting the room, slamming the door violently behind him.

"You won't let him get away with this will you?" Francis piped up, his voice cracking a little from lack of use.

"Quiet." The sudden command made the Frenchman back away a little, or try to at least; the ropes wouldn't allow it.

"Hm, love you too." The First Mate retorted, a little put out.

Arthur looked up at Francis, sincerity in his eyes. "I'm sorry, love, I just need time to think. I can't very well make a daring escape without a little planning, can I?" Francis smiled in relief, in turn making Arthur grin a little.

Francis sighed, "Alright. Take all the time you need." He left a small kiss on the Brit's forehead, the only part of him he could reach, and leant back against the wall again, closing his eyes for some rest.

"Now, how am I supposed to get out of this one?" Arthur sighed, slouching back against the now lightly snoring man sight behind him. As he did, his hands came to rest on something that was strapped around Francis' belt. "Ah!" He tensed his body, a smile creeping onto his face. "Now there's something I can use."

…

…

…

Francis was woken by a sharp prod in the forearm. His eyes slowly flickered open and he was surprised to see that Arthur was stood in front of him, offering out his hand to the Frenchman. "H-h-how?" He stuttered, confused, "How did you get out? What did I miss?" The Brit smirked.

"I took the liberty of taking that knife you keep in your pocket out. I managed to reach it with a little bit of shuffling around, then I just had to cut the ropes around my wrist off. It took a little longer than I had hoped, but now I'm out. I cut your ropes while you were asleep too." Francis glanced down at his wrists and his ankles. Just like Arthur had said, the bonds were gone. "You're welcome, love."

The First Mate leapt to his feet and tackled the younger blonde into a hug. "You're amazing, Arthur! You know that don't you? Thank you so much!" Francis was talking a hundred words a second and Arthur had a hard time understanding most of it, but he got the general idea.

"I was hardly going to leave you behind, was I, love?" The captain chocked, suffering from the lack of oxygen that Francis was causing him. "Remember?" He prized Francis off of himself, standing directly in front of him so they could look each other in the eyes. "I love you." There was a moment of silence and then Arthur leant in and planted a gentle kiss on Francs' still smiling lips.

"Well, if you really loved me, we'd be out of here by now." Francis smirked. Without a word, the captain grabbed the noble by the wrist and dragged him towards the door.

"I know where we are. This is where I used to… Uh…" The Brit's voice faded out. He wasn't going to tell Francis that this was his old 'torture' chamber. "Um, anyway, this door leads up into my cabin. We should be able to make it there in one piece, but after that I doubt Hamish will let us out too easily."

"You used to do what?" The Frenchman asked, slightly missing the pirate's point.

Arthur smiled to himself, "Don't worry. Look, I don't know how handy you are with a sword, but you might want to keep your pistol close, alright?"

The older blonde nodded silently, staying close to Arthur. "Ready?"

"Oui."

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

_**I'm sorry! It's shorter than the other chapters! And I was really lazy with the escape scene. Lol, France fell asleep. Anyways, see you next chapter~**_

_**~IK~**_


	7. Dying

_**I'M SO SORRY THAT THIS CHAPTER TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT! I CAN ONLY APOLOGIZE FOR MAKING YOU ALL WAIT SO LONG! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING SO PATIENT! I really am sorry. I wrote this up a while ago but I haven't had any time to type it up, what with getting ready for MCM in a few weeks… So, please bear with me if the next few chapters take a little while too, but I really will try and get them all up as soon as I can! *Bows profusely***_

_**~X~X~X~X~X~**_

The two men grabbed each other's hands and hurriedly made their way to the door. Arthur took the lead, turning the handle and slowly pulling the door towards them. He signalled to Francis to keep quiet then pulled him into the hallway, easing the door shut behind them. "Do you know where we are? I've never seen this place before." The noble whispered, leaning close to Arthur's ear.

"We were in and old store room. It's been a while since I've been down here, but if I remember correctly it's almost directly under my cabin. There should be a staircase close by." With Arthur knowing where they were, Francis felt somewhat safer and knowing that they were still on the same ship was also a comforting thought. Or at least it _was_ until he remembered that Hamish would also be on board somewhere.

The two walked slowly down the narrow hallway, squashed up close to one another, until they came to a steep stairway. The Brit let out a silent "I knew it!" and punched the air in triumph. Francis couldn't help but smile; so childish. "Come on, Francis. If Hamish is in the Galley or my cabin then we'll have a clean run to the wheel. Once we're there, the crew can't touch us, we'll be back in control." The captain's smile faded as he realised that his companion wasn't as excited as he was. "What's up?"

Francis hesitated before he dared look into the eye of the captain and state "I'm scared. I don't want your crew to leave you, or kill you, just because of me." Arthur didn't know how to take the confession. He hesitated a moment before he responded by wrapping his arms around the Frenchman in a strong, reassuring hug.

"It'll be alright, I promise. I wouldn't let them do anything to us, okay? I love myself too much to let those dirty brutes lay a finger on me." A grin made its way onto the pirate's lips as he saw Francis break into a small smile.

"That's what I mean to you, hm?"

Arthur snapped out of his pretend self-obsessed trance, still smiling "Oh, and you too, of course I wouldn't let them harm you!" They both smiled at each other, "So, you want to do this?" Francis simply nodded, not entirely fancying their chances of getting to the wheel in one piece, even if Hamish was inside or below deck. The captain let go of Francis' hand and headed up the ladder, with the Frenchman following on behind.

The bright sun and strong salty air hit Arthur in the face like a brick wall as he lifted the hatch up and shifted it to the side to allow him to stand up and let Francis come up after him, while he made his way to the wheel. The pirate's crimson coat flew out behind him as he ran towards the centre of the deck. The members of the crew that were lingering on deck stared at their captain in what seemed like shock, freezing what they were doing and watching on. The Englishman skidded to a halt in front of the wheel and dragged it all the way to the left, causing the vessel to eventually veer drastically in the same direction.

The other men on deck soon realized what was happening, drew their swords and pistols and charged to surround Arthur. "So, you lot were in on Hamish's ridiculous plan too, eh?"

One man tried to play dumb, "What plan? What are you talkin' about?"

"Love, don't try and tell me you weren't planning a mutiny." Arthur glared up at the barrel that was squarely in his face, "especially when you're pointing that thing between my eyes. At this point Francis was about to run over to at least knock the pistol out of Arthur's face when his arms were pulled back behind him. He couldn't see behind him to see who it was that had restrained him, all he could see was what was going on in front of him. "Arthur!" He called, but the Brit was too preoccupied with the crowd of mutinous men that were now jeering and shouting at Arthur, and each other. "Arthur!" he tried again. Nothing. The other men were being too loud.

"Oi, let go of the wheel, would ya?" One of the cooks yelled, waving the edge of a less than threatening butter knife in his superior's face. The Brit simply smirked and knocked the dull implement aside with a black gloved hand.

"Whether you like it or not, I'm still the captain of this tub, alright?"

"We'll have to see what we can do about that, won't we?" A new voice joined the mix as someone walked through the door of the Captain's cabin. Hamish walked out onto the deck, looking as smug as anything. "Congrats on the quick escape. I thought that you would have surely forgotten about that old storage cabin.

"You!" Arthur snapped at the leader of the rebellion "What do you think you're playing at, huh?"

Hamish rolled his eyes, sighing in false exasperation, "Honestly, we've been through this. We don't want you in charge if you really are into men like that."

Silence. The two men stared each other down, while Francis watched on, still struggling against whoever it was that was holding him. He just wanted to punch Hamish in the face. Repeatedly. With a sword. He hated seeing the pirate captain cornered like this, but all he could do from his position was watch.

The first to speak was the Brit. "So, what are you going to do about it, love?" Hamish raised an eyebrow, knowing that he had the upper hand. He paused for a second. He wanted to savour the moment that his captain finally got what he deserved. "I'll show you want I'm going to do about it." Hamish hissed, "Fire!"

There was a moment of agonizing silence before a shot was fired. Francis had to take a moment to try and figure out where it had come from. Then he saw it; the man that had his pistol right on Arthur's forehead. He was the one that had fired. "No!" he yelled, his eye desperately searching the deck for his captain, no, his lover. He wasn't where he had been stood before and his hat was near the Frenchman's feet. Seeing it there filled Francis with a swirling rage that allowed him to break free from the iron grasp that was constricting him in one final tug. He didn't even bother to look back and see who it was that had held him, he simply bolted straight past Hamish to the crowd of crewmen that stood in a wide circle around a body that lay motionless on the on the floor. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

Before he could reach the pirates body a strong arm threw him back a few feet and a burly cook, who looked like he had seen his fair share of pub brawls, turned to glare at him. "Where d'you think you're going, pretty boy?" He laughed darkly, brandishing a frighteningly large clever, "It's your turn next." The cook threw his blade into the air and was about to bring it down into Francis's head when Hamish stepped in.

"Now now, I want to have a chat with the frog." Francis's eyebrow twitched in brief annoyance at the term, but soon decided that it was better than being dead. "All of you! Back to work!" the crewman called to the other that were all still stood around their captain's lifeless corpse, some of them daring to prod it with the toe of their boots. They heard the order and slowly disappeared back to their posts, most of them vanishing below deck.

"What do you want, eh?" The Frenchman s pat, turning away from Arthur's body as a solitary tear fell down his cheek. Hamish walked around to stand in front of the Noble, staring him directly in the eye.

"I'd like to ask you to remain on the ship with us."

Francis' gaze dropped to the floor, "I thought you didn't like us?"

"Nah, only a few of us actually liked that limey bastard, this is just the excuse we needed to get rid of him. Besides, it'd be too much trouble to find a new first mate to replace you, seeing as the last on got tossed in the sea." The Frenchman couldn't even form a response. How dare he talk about Arthur that way?

"Is that so?" A voice that wasn't Francis's or Hamish's made both men look up sharply. Francis saw it first, his bright blue eyes wide with wonder. Stood right behind Hamish, his crimson coat slung over his shoulders, his battered tricorn hat atop his scruffy blonde hair was none other than Captain Arthur Kirkland.

Hamish was still looking around in front of himself in confusion when the captain grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the edge of the ship, leaning him right over. "You do know what the penalty for mutiny is in my eyes, Hamish?" The Brit purred. Hamish, who was now incredibly confused and slightly scared, couldn't even form an answer, he simply shook his head violently from side to side.

"In my eyes, the penalty for mutiny should be worse than death. And in your case letting you live out your pitiful existence is certainly worse than ending it now." He paused for a second, a devilish grin playing on his lips. "On the other hand, it would be so much easier to get rid of you now and be done with it." The Brit leant forward to be just in the corner of Hamish's vision, "Any last words, love?"

There was no time for Hamish to answer. The second he opened his mouth to speak, Arthur released his grip on the collar of the man's shirt. "Oops." He smiled as he watched the traitor fall to the ocean. It was a second or two before he surfaced again and tried in vain to grab a hold of the ship. "Careful!" the captain yelled out, "I've heard some nasty tales of sharks around here!" Arthur stayed where he was only long enough to get a look at the panicked expression on the floating man's face before he span on his heel to wander back towards Francis.

Instantly, he was engulfed in a fierce hug. "Arthur! Arthur I thought you were dead! Don't you ever do that to me again, alright? I don't want to loose you again!"

"Whoa! Slow down, love!" The Brit sighed, hugging Francis back tightly. "I won't die again. Not for a long time yet, with any luck." Arthur pulled out of the hug and rested a hand under Francis' chin, getting him to look right into his eyes. They gazed into each other's eyes before they leant in and locked their lips together, both of them tasting the salt of the Noble's tears.

When the two separated, they found the entire crew staring at them. Francis' cheeks turned a powder pink colour at the mere thought of people staring at him and Arthur, while the pirate himself couldn't help but smile. "What are you all gawking at, eh?" The crew al looked at each other, the looked back to the Englishman. "Well if you have nothing better to do than stand around, you can go and join Hamish." All the men backed away, "That was an order, by the way." The captain added, smirking.

There was a moment of silence as the crew tried to figure out whether he was serious or not. Eventually one man walked slowly over to the edge and slowly slipped himself over the edge, the only thing that could be heard was the splash as he hit the water. Soon the others followed, and one by one they all disappeared over the side, leaving Francis and Arthur on their own.

"Now," Arthur caught Francis' attention and knelt down on one knee in front of him, looking up at him with playfully sparkling eyes, "where would you like to go?"

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

"_**They gazed into each other's eyes before they leant in and locked their lips together, both of them tasting the salt of the Noble's tears." Did I really write that? Wow… Anyways, I hope this slightly-longer-than-usual- chapter made up for the really long wait… Please, forgive me for that… Well, one more (very short) chapter to go~ See you all there!**_


	8. Revealing (Epilogue)

_**So, this is it! I won't babble on too much, so see you later~**_

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

It had been a good few days since Captain Arthur Kirkland had thrown his entire crew off his ship, leaving him and his love, Francis Bonnefoy to sail the seven seas alone, at least until they could find a suitable replacement crew. The two men were stood by the wheel; Francis was steering and Arthur had his arms wrapped tightly around the Frenchman's waist. The only sounds were those of sea waves and heartbeats. The sun was just setting over the horizon, bathing the world in golden light. Life was perfect.

"How did you do it?" Francis asked, without context or warning, breaking the serene quiet.

The half asleep Brit opened his eyes and lifted his head from his first mate's shoulder.

"How did I do what, love?"

"You dodged a bullet." Arthur smiled to himself. He took his hat off and ruffled his hair, sighing.

"This old thing isn't just to keep my head dry, you know." The shorter blonde chuckled and placed his beloved tricorn onto Francis' head, "After all, you don't get to be a famous pirate without keeping a few extra tricks up your sleeve.

Without another word, Arthur kissed Francis lightly on the cheek, turned and left for his cabin, leaving the Frenchman alone with his hat. Carefully, the older blonde removed it from his head. It was heavier than Francis had thought it would be, and on closer inspection he found out why; on the inside of the material was a sheet of solid pewter. Not thick enough to be obvious but just thick enough to deflect a blow to the head, or a bullet. Francis smiled. That man had a plan for everything.

_**~X~X~X~X~X~X~**_

_**Wow… So, that's that then… IT'S OVER?! Well, if it really is over, then I'd like to thank all of you for sticking with me and giving me all your lovely reviews, they were all tat kept me going! (Well, that and nagging from my friend~) This has turned out to be my most popular story so far, so thank you all very much for being there for me! Also, before I go, do any of you actually read my little notes and drabbles that I put at the start and at the end of my chapters? Just wondering~**_

_**~IK**_


	9. One Last Thought

_**Sorry for the spam, everyone, but I just wanted to take a second to properly thank all of you that have followed, favourited and reviewed this story! It really has turned out to be one of my most popular works, and I have to admit I had a lot of fun planning out the chapters and writing it! And although I try to stay away from multi-chapter stories, mostly because when I write I don't do much planning and I just go where I end up going and also because I'm too lazy to actually write up all the chapters, but this one may have done it for me. I might start writing more multi-chaps. Anyway, I just hope you all know how happy your reviews make me, and I know how cheesy and clichéd that sounds, but it's true, alright? So, yes. Thank you for putting up with me taking forever to update on some of the chapters and my sometimes strange and sometimes inconstant writing style and my ramblings at the beginning and end of each chapter…**_

_**Thank you and I hope you all liked the story. Feel free to send me your rants if there was something you didn't like, or anything you want me to change. Again, sorry for the spam, but I just wanted to let you all know.**_

_**See you all later!**_

_**~IK~**_


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